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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058584">Shadows in the North</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/willawips/pseuds/willawips'>willawips</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:55:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/willawips/pseuds/willawips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For many years now, the north of Falia has resisted the advances of the Valaviri Empire. Their success derives from the fact that they seem to have figured out some way to keep out the maerei, the shadow spies that haunt everybody else in the Empire. Concerned that the northern Falians may share their secret with other enemies of the Empire, leading to chaos and destruction across the continent, the Empire is offering an incredibly high reward for a dangerous enterprise: infiltrating the north to discover how the Falians are keeping out the maerei.<br/>But nothing is as it seems, and the further into Falia the expedition goes, the more mysteries there are...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shadows in the North</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In a tucked-away alley, somewhere in the bustling city of Ilusa, an odd group has gathered around one doorway. The door seems ordinary at first—weathered, reddish wood with a simple black handle—but upon closer inspection, the shadows appear to cluster more densely around this particular entryway. None of the three men seem to notice—or if they do, they’re not saying anything about it, preferring instead to watch the door intently.</p>
<p>The young man with untidy brown hair keeps sneaking curious looks at his companions in between staring at the door. Standing next to him, an older gentleman with a neatly trimmed gray mustache who has a little book in one hand jots down the occasional note, muttering to himself. The man next to him, wearing worn brown clothing, slides a periodic look of amusement mixed with wariness at him every time he does this.</p>
<p>This group isn’t odd because of the way they’re dressed, or how they’re paying such close attention to the door. Plenty of visitors from distant countries come to Ilusa—it’s not odd to see bright Rigana tunics next to duller Valaviri coats and frocks—and there are plenty of insane people in the city as well.</p>
<p>No, what’s odd about this group is the way that they stand there as if they’re waiting for something, yet none of them speak a word to each other—</p>
<p>—until the young man with untidy brown hair says, a bit awkwardly, “So...are you here for the mission too?” When nobody answers, he goes on, “I did think it was a bit odd, the way they asked us to sign our names and then show up here at exactly noon, don’t you?”</p>
<p>The older gentleman scribbles something in his little book. “Not at all, not at all. Simply the art of punctuality, my good man, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”</p>
<p>The other two trade a glance. Conversation dies out after that.</p>
<p>At last, it opens. A young woman with downcast eyes ushers them in. They follow her down a short, dusty hallway until she stops in front of a slightly open door. “They’re waiting for you in here,” she says quietly, gesturing for them to enter the room.</p>
<p>There are only four people inside the cramped space. A gray-haired man bends over the large rickety table in the center of the room, absorbed in his papers. A stocky, elderly woman hunches over a stool in the corner, glaring at the mending in her hands. The shadows in the room seem to coalesce around her. Next to her stands a man whose balding, light brown head shines in the candlelight. Every so often, he fidgets awkwardly, glancing down at the old woman, who pays him no heed.</p>
<p>The final occupant of the room is a well-dressed lady, about the same age as the woman who had led them inside, sitting at the table next to the gray-haired man. She reaches up to pat her hair, done up in elaborate braids, and notices the group just as their guide slips in silently behind them. “Finally. It’s about time.”</p>
<p>The gray-haired man looks up and smiles. “Ah, I see you all found the place in time. Very good. No troubles along the way, I hope?”</p>
<p>“No, no trouble at all. Minus the bakery that we passed...I would have loved to get a loaf of bread,” the older gentleman says.</p>
<p>“Seconded,” mutters the young man at the back of the group.</p>
<p>“Especially since today is the day they ship in imported breads. But alas, no use grumbling about things that can’t be changed,” the older gentleman says while looking around the room, hoping to spot some sort of refreshments.</p>
<p>“Good, good. Glad to hear there weren’t any major difficulties. Well, don’t be shy, sit right down.” The gray-haired man frowns, as he realizes there are only two free seats at the table. “Er—”</p>
<p>“I’ll stand,” says the man wearing brown.</p>
<p>“I won’t,” says the older gentleman, eagerly taking a chair.</p>
<p>The young man shrugs and takes a seat as well. “Guess that’s settled.”</p>
<p>“Ness!” the well-dressed lady snaps at their guide. “Fetch some food. Honestly, use your head for once. Why must I tell you to do everything?” Ness stares at her. “Go!” Ness nods and leaves the room. The middle-aged man over in the corner winces, but says nothing, while the old woman stabs her needle through the shirt she’s holding with more force than necessary.</p>
<p>“While we’re waiting, perhaps introductions are in order,” the gray-haired man says. “I am Verus Odoaceri, a senior magician at Lironina. This is Feroxia Caecilia, recent inheritor of her late father’s title.” The Lady Caecelia flicks her gaze contemptuously over all of them as Verus continues, “And over here we have Merianus Drusus, who I am delighted to announce will be your guide on this journey.” In the corner, Merianus looks anything but delighted at this announcement. Ness silently reenters with a tray of food—bread, cheese, and dried fruits—sets them down on the table, and retreats to a position by the doorway.</p>
<p>“A pleasure to be in the company of such esteemed hosts. I am Bartlby Thomison Rutledge, third of his name, Keeper of Rutledge Manor. Of course, you surely must have already known that,” Bartlby says with an air of pride and dignity. “BT for short.”</p>
<p>“Arvel of the Avan Isles,” says the young man, bowing slightly to the company.</p>
<p>The final man rolls his eyes a little and smiles. “Mael. Nothing fancy to follow the name other than my country, Rigan. Hope that’ll do.”</p>
<p>“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Eat up, eat up,” Verus urges, gesturing at the food. “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering what you’re here for. Tell me, what do you know of Falia?”</p>
<p>Arvel tears a piece of bread and pops it into his mouth. “Cursed. Filled with magic.” He smiles at them. “Doesn’t love the Valaviri, strangely enough.”</p>
<p>“Ah, yes, ‘the Edge of the World’,” Bartlby says, eyes closed, stroking his mustache.</p>
<p>“All very good answers. Merianus, perhaps you might give us a more detailed answer? As it relates to our purpose gathering here today, if you don’t mind. He’s somewhat of an amateur historian of the place, you see,” Verus says to the group.</p>
<p>Merianus clears his throat. His voice is soft and hesitant. “Falian magic was nothing like we’d ever seen before. It defied all of the usual laws of magic. The invading army, although greater in size and more unified than the defending Falians, had an incredibly difficult time gaining even a little bit of ground against them.” As he warms to his subject, he seems to grow in confidence, straightening up. “What turned the tide of the war was the Empire’s acquisition of the <em> maerei</em>. Even the strange magic of the Falians seemed unable to counteract them. Eventually, the remaining defenders fled to the north of the country. The army gave chase, confident they would succeed, only to find that somehow, the <em> maerei </em> were unable to pass beyond a certain point. Without the <em> maerei</em>, the army was hesitant to continue onward, fearing defeat, and so the north of Falia remained independent.” At this point, he seems to remember that he has a live audience, and retreats back to his corner. “A state of affairs which has continued to this day,” he concludes quietly.</p>
<p>Everybody in the room shifts uncomfortably at the casual naming of the <em> maerei</em>. Beings of darkness that the Empire uses to spy on its citizens, the <em> maerei </em> are not to be taken lightly. With the ability to conceal themselves in any shadow and no one the wiser, the <em> maerei </em> are the Empire’s most powerful weapons.</p>
<p>But somehow, if what Merianus says is true...someone’s figured out how to block the <em> maerei</em>. </p>
<p>This is big. The Empire has many enemies, both within its borders and outside of them, who would dearly love to get ahold of this information.</p>
<p>So if they find out how…</p>
<p>...they would either be the Empire’s new best friends, or worst enemies.</p>
<p>And it all depends on what they decide to do with the information.</p>
<p>“As you can no doubt understand, it’s not a situation the Empire has any interest in maintaining. The only obstacle is whatever the northern Falians are doing to keep out the <em> maerei</em>. If we can remove that from the equation, Falia will be completely conquered,” Verus says, ignoring the rapid mental calculations going on in everybody else’s heads. “To that end, the Empire is offering a substantial reward—100,000 silver <em> eroros</em>—to find out how the Falians are keeping the <em> maerei </em> at bay. You all must infiltrate the north, find out how they’re doing it, and then report back.” He smiles at them. “Questions?”</p>
<p>Arvel whistled. “We’re splitting the silver?”</p>
<p>Bartlby clears his throat. “For those of us less interested in, well, financial reward. Would we be given more academic rewards? Such as access to the imperial archives?”</p>
<p>“100,000 silver <em>eroros</em> each, actually,” Verus corrects Arvel. He turns to Bartlby. “And I’m sure something of the sort could be arranged for you.”</p>
<p>“Capital!” Bartlby exclaims, his mustache turning upwards in a smile.</p>
<p>“Do the Falians torture prisoners? And what happens if we’re maimed on this quest?”</p>
<p>Mael leans back in his chair. “Way to skip past the money and jump straight into the bleak,” he says to Arvel, though his tone is light.</p>
<p>Arvel chuckles. “Well, it’s a fabulous sum of money. It must be a very dangerous venture if we’re to be paid so handsomely.”</p>
<p>“Mmm. A fair point.”</p>
<p>“A little bit of danger and near death experiences is good for the health, if I do say so myself,” Bartlby chimes in.</p>
<p>Gravely, Arvel says, “You do look in excellent health, sir.”</p>
<p>“That I attribute to the drinking of fine ales and the smoking of cigars.” Bartlby says cheerfully.</p>
<p>“We don’t know what happens to Falian prisoners,” Verus admits. His gaze drifts over to the old woman in the corner. “The prisoners don’t come back. We assume they are killed.” He coughs. “If you are injured on this journey, I can assure you that you’ll be compensated handsomely, though not as handsomely as if you succeed, of course!”</p>
<p>“And how are we to reach the north? What’s our route and how far is our friend Merianus to take us?” Arvel asks Verus</p>
<p>At the question, Verus looks pleased. “It was my idea, really. In the past, it’s taken the group at least three months to reach Falia from here. Bit time-consuming, really. But then I thought about an experiment some of the other senior magicians have going on back at the university. It’s tricky, but with the right set up, it’s possible to send things to another location using the <em> maerei</em>. You simply step through, and there you are. We’ll be doing that as soon as you’re finished up here; you’ll be in Eblana Ladrem in time for supper. You’ll be met on the other end by Emidius, an old friend of mine. We’ve briefed him on the situation, not to worry. He’ll tell you where to go from there. Merianus will hopefully be able to guide you without any incident to at least the border, although he’ll be continuing with you beyond.”</p>
<p>Arvel stills. In a carefully level voice, he says, “We’re to step into the <em> maerei</em>?”</p>
<p>“Ah, capital! I’ve always wanted to get a closer look at the hellspawn.” Bartlby says this with zero hint of irony.</p>
<p>“And how are you sure we’ll end up where we’re supposed to and not consumed by darkness?”</p>
<p>Mael nods in agreement. “I’d like to know that, too. Shadows aren’t exactly friendly.”</p>
<p>“Well, most of the mice have survived this far,” Verus says cheerfully. “And several humans. I’m sure you’ll all be right as rain.”</p>
<p>“How reassuring,” says Mael flatly.</p>
<p>“How many have tried?” Arvel asks. His face remains neutral.</p>
<p>“Would there be time to collect my botany kit first?” Bartlby asks hopefully.</p>
<p>Verus raises an eyebrow, ignoring Bartlby for the moment. “How many mice? Or how many humans?”</p>
<p>“Both. How many tried, how many succeeded, mice and humans alike?” Arvel says.</p>
<p>“May I study some of the mice?” Bartlby has already whipped out his little book again.</p>
<p>Verus consults his notes. “Out of the hundred mice, sixty came through unharmed, twenty came through dead, and twenty never appeared. If you like, you may see the information here,” he says to Bartlby, passing over several pages. “Out of the twenty humans, ten came through unharmed, five dead, three mad, and two didn’t appear on the other side.”</p>
<p>Arvel laughs. “Ah, then my odds are respectable indeed! Well, well, why not take a risk for such a fortune as is dangled before us.”</p>
<p>“Capital! I’ve faced worse odds during gatherings of my extended family!” Bartlby puts away his little book.</p>
<p>Mael examines them both with raised brows. “Is no one going to comment on the two that are just...missing? Not a big fan of that.”</p>
<p>“Excellent point, young man,” Bartlby says.</p>
<p>Arvel shrugs. “Eh, half of the subjects came through unharmed. Truth be told, I’d take more pause at the ones who came back mad.”</p>
<p>He glances at Verus. “The ones who returned intact...did they see anything in their, ah, travels?”</p>
<p>“Darkness and cold seem to be the common experience, although I’ve been told it may be different for the individual.”</p>
<p>Bartlby pulls out a small book and begins to scribble notes again. </p>
<p>“Ah, so no more than one might expect on a long journey! Well then, I am prepared to risk it for fortune and glory,” Arvel says.</p>
<p>Merianus raises one hand. “How do you expect us to infiltrate the north? I certainly don’t have enough knowledge of the culture to make that happen.”</p>
<p>“That’s where I come in, I suppose,” Lady Caecilia says, examining her nails. “The old hag in the corner’s Falian. She was a gift from the Emperor to my father a while back. She was part of a war-band that came over the border some forty years ago, but got captured and sent here. That one’s her daughter.” She jerks her chin the direction of Ness, who flinches.</p>
<p>Valus says, “You’re quite right, Merianus. We’re relying on you to guide them to the border, but it won’t be enough to get you into the North. The northern Falians don’t tolerate any attempts to cross the border—or so we thought. Recently, though, we’ve become aware that there are some Falians who go back and forth. We think that if you approach the border, accompanied by—” He glances at the old woman inquisitively, but she ignores him. “By…this slave, and tell the northern Falians you wish to return her to her people, they may let you pass. We hope.”</p>
<p>The old woman scoffs, lifting her head for the first time. “I doubt it. They’re not Valaviri idiots.”</p>
<p>Lady Caecilia swivels in her seat, a poisonous smile on her face. “I hope you die on the way, Uallach. I really do.”</p>
<p>“You wish,” retorts Uallach. “I’ve sworn to dance on your grave, witless child, and I don’t intend to lose my life before then.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you awful hag! I’m going to—”</p>
<p>“Lady Caecilia,” interrupts Verus, sounding strained. “Perhaps this particular discussion might be shelved for another time?” </p>
<p>She huffs, crossing her arms. “Very well. I’ll be giving Uallach and Ness to you all for the journey. I don’t particularly care if they never come back.”</p>
<p>“Lovely,” Arvel remarks. “It’ll be nice to have someone who knows the people along.” He glances at Ness, smiling a little. “And such pretty ambassadors will guarantee us a welcome, I’ve no doubt.”</p>
<p>Ness avoids his eyes, staring instead at the ground.</p>
<p>Bartlby leans over to Uallach and whispers, “Do your people use stone or wood primarily for crafting?”</p>
<p>Uallach glares at him. “Why should I tell you? You’re only going to use it against them.”</p>
<p>Bartlby whispers, “No, because it’s for my private library...” Even more quietly: “I don’t trust mainstream academia...”</p>
<p>She scoffs and turns away. “They use paper,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Makes it easier for the Valaviri to set the buildings aflame.”</p>
<p>“Fascinating.” BT scribbles in his journal.</p>
<p>“Well!” Verus claps his hands together and looks around. “Has everybody finished asking questions?”</p>
<p>“Yes, thank you,” Arvel says.</p>
<p>“Yes, Master Verus, you have been most patient. Many thanks!”</p>
<p>Mael simply nods.</p>
<p>“Excellent. We’ll proceed to where the <em> maerei </em> are being held, then.” Verus gathers his papers up into one neat bundle, and leads the way to the door they’d come in. Once outside, however, they are surprised to see a blonde woman hanging about outside in the street. As they file out the door, she takes a tentative step closer. “Can I help you, miss?” Verus asks.</p>
<p>“I’m...late,” she admits frankly, twisting her hands together. “I’m one of the volunteers? For...?” Noticing the eyes upon her, she trails off.</p>
<p>“I see.” He pulls out a sheet of paper and glances down at it. “Your name?”</p>
<p>“Liesl Hartnet.”</p>
<p>She almost attempts to look at the paper, but steps back instead</p>
<p>“Good, you’re on the list. I’m afraid you missed the explanation inside, but I’m sure one of your new companions will be more than happy to fill you in.” Verus tucks away the paper, and leads them down the deserted alley. At the very end of it, are stairs, presumably leading down to a cellar. He stops at the top of the stairway, and says, “Here’s where I leave you, I’m afraid. Just step right on through that doorway and keep going. Don’t stop for anything—I’m told that’s critical. Keep going straight no matter what. Best of luck! Now, who’s going first?”</p>
<p>Arvel grins dazzlingly at their new companion. “If you like, Mistress Hartnet, I’ll fill you in on the other side.”</p>
<p>She smiles tentatively at him. “Thank you, that’s very kind.” She then sets her gaze in the doorway. She looks grim, as if before a race.</p>
<p>BT reaches to shake Liesl’s hand. Getting in front of Arvel. “Pleased to meet you, Lady Liesl, I am Bartlby Thomison Rutledge, third of his name, Keeper of Rutledge Manor. We are going on an expedition to Falia by means of unearthly magic.”</p>
<p>Arvel looks briefly miffed at having his moment interrupted, but he recovers quickly. With a wink and a careless salute, he says, “Then I’ll see you on the other side of the unearthly magic.” He plunges into the dark doorway.</p>
<p>“M-magic?” She flaps her hands for a moment. “Magic doesn’t exist! There has to be some sort of—“ she steps forward, inspecting the door. “Perhaps a gravitational pull or something,” she muses.</p>
<p>“Fascinating point of view, young lady!” BT pulls his notebook out. “What makes you say magic does not exist?”</p>
<p>“Because it doesn’t,” she says bluntly. “And he—oh.” She notices Arvel’s complete disappearance. “Oh.”</p>
<p>BT scribbles in his notebook as he walks straight into the doorway and disappears.</p>
<p>Lisel grips her leather bag. “Mother would hate this,” she mutters. She creeps toward the doorway, takes a deep breath, then <em> runs </em>.</p>
<p>Mael follows behind her, and disappears as well. Then Merianus stumbles after him. Uallach and Ness, pushed forward by Lady Caecilia, trip after him.</p>
<p>One by one, they step through the doorway…and into nothingness. For Arvel, it is as if he is struggling to climb up a very steep hill on a starless night while heavy rain pushes him back down. For BT, howling winds buffet him out of nowhere, making it difficult to keep in a straight line. For Liesl, it is like walking down a very dark unfamiliar hallway at night as some creature’s faint breath stirs the hairs on the back of her neck. For Mael, it is like sinking slowly into a black sea, with the water rising above his chest, his neck, and finally his head, until he is sure he cannot breathe and must turn back.</p>
<p>One by one, they emerge on the other side of the darkness. Arvel and BT are shaken, but fine. They step forward to make room for the others. Seconds pass, each one longer than the last. The two glance at each other, worried, but just then Uallach and Ness, followed by Merianus, emerge. They are shaking terribly and seem hardly able to move, but they carry the unconscious forms of Mael and Liesl. As soon as everyone is through, the unnatural wall of darkness vanishes.</p>
<p>They are in a room with no furniture. The only decorations the room possesses are the out of date maps on the wall. And they are completely alone.</p>
<p>“So much for Emidius,” Arvel mutters. “Mistress Uallach, Mistress Ness, are you all right? Do we need to find healers for you, or some wine?”</p>
<p>“We’re fine,” Uallach snaps, although her words lack their usual bite.</p>
<p>“Thank you, though,” Ness says shyly. “Could you help...?” She looks at the two people they’re still carrying. “They’re a bit heavy.”</p>
<p>BT takes Mael from Ness, while Arvel takes Liesl.</p>
<p>“Here, dear ladies, chew upon this.” BT takes leaves of mint from his rucksack and hands one to Ness, Liesl, and Uallach. Liesl chews, eyes barely open. “They will help sharpen your senses.”</p>
<p>Arvel looks around. “What about Mael? Do any of you know how to rouse him? Merianus?”</p>
<p>Merianus shifts nervously. “I’m a historian, not a healer. I’m not even a real historian at that.”</p>
<p>“Do you know where to find a healer in Eblana Ladrem? Are we even <em> in </em> Eblana Ladrem?” Arvel tacks this last question on with exasperation.</p>
<p>Merianus spreads his hands helplessly. “I’ve never even been to the place. I’ve only read about it in books.”</p>
<p>Mael blinks and begins to shift upright. “Oh,” he groans, one hand rising to his forehead. “I feel as if...someone’s kicked me.” He looks at the the rest of the group blankly, still a bit disoriented.</p>
<p>BT leans over Mael, holding his hand out to him. “Mint?”</p>
<p>He accepts it, face wrinkling in confusion.</p>
<p>Arvel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, may the Highest send us more wisdom than we have in this room. All right then, I’ll see what’s outside.”</p>
<p>Just then, someone knocks hurriedly on the door. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”</p>
<p>“You may enter!” BT says</p>
<p>Hand on the hilt of his sword, Arvel opens the door and flashes a smile that’s more teeth than cheer.</p>
<p>A boy and a girl stand outside the door. They lean back a little when they see Arvel’s sword, and even more when they see his smile. “Um,” the girl says, out of breath, “are you the group from Ilusa?”</p>
<p>Arvel leans against the doorframe and raises an eyebrow at them. “Who’s asking?”</p>
<p>BT stands between Arvel and the kids. “I am Bartlby Thomison Rutledge, third of his name, Keeper of Rutledge Manor. It’s a pleasure to make the acquaintance of such charming young folks,” BT says cheerfully.</p>
<p>Arvel gives him an exasperated look.</p>
<p>The two edge closer to BT. “I’m Malasintha, and that’s Hugon,” the girl says, elbowing the boy, who’s staring wide-eyed at Arvel’s sword. “We’re students here. Master Emidius is...um...indisposed—” </p>
<p>“He’s drunk,” Hugon says. “Can I hold your sword? It looks sharp.”</p>
<p>Arvel utters a startled laugh. “Drunk! What kind of expedition—? No, lad, it <em> is </em> sharp and I’d rather not draw it in a small room. Well, you’re clearly a bright pair, if you’re students. Will you tell us where to find a healer and maybe some food and wine? We’ve had...a rough journey.”</p>
<p>BT turns to Arvel. “Nonsense, Arvel, let the child play with the sword! A well-behaved boy like that will certainly take the utmost care of it! What lovely children. Would you like some mint?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely!” Hugon says to BT, beaming. “Mint has special properties.” He turns pleading eyes to Arvel. “I only want to hold it...I’ve never held a sword before.”</p>
<p>“Don’t let him hold it,” Malasintha warns. “He’ll drop it and chop his foot off or something.”</p>
<p>Arvel chuckles. “A stout lad like this one? I’d trust him, especially if he’s not going to swing it.”</p>
<p>Liesl makes a sleepy noise, still trying to catch her bearings.</p>
<p>Mael is still confused but, feeling a bit left out, tries to chime in. “Let him swing it!” he calls.</p>
<p>The sound recalls Arvel to their circumstances. “But that must wait, because my friends really should see a healer as swiftly as your feet will take you. Please, can you help us?” Over his shoulder, he calls to Mael, “That’s an outdoor treat!”</p>
<p>Mael frowns.</p>
<p>Liesl wipes at her mouth. “I think I’ll be alright,” she says, eyes already scanning her surroundings.</p>
<p>Malasintha steps on Hugon’s foot as he reaches for the sword. “Of course. We can take you to Master Conn one floor down, if you want.”</p>
<p>“Thank you. Anyone else coming with me?” Arvel glances around at the group, one eyebrow raised inquiringly.</p>
<p>“Capital, dear girl, absolutely capital!” BT walks with Arvel and Malasintha out the door.</p>
<p>“Wait!” Mael struggles to his feet. “Don’t even <em> think </em> about leaving me behind. I’m totally fine. Plus, this room doesn’t even have furniture.” He stumbles a little, which doesn’t help his case, but rights himself as if nothing had happened.</p>
<p>Liesl rubs her head. “After you,” she murmurs to Ness and Uallach.</p>
<p>As they pass she glances behind her shoulder, gaze intent on the “magic” door.</p>
<p>She hums.</p>
<p>Malasintha chatters at them as they head downstairs. “We’re really very sorry about all of that. Master Emidius told us to wake him up before you got here, but he’s, um, really out of it, so we came straight here to see if you’d all made it—” </p>
<p>“What was it like?” interrupts Hugon, pulling out a scrap of paper and scribbling something down on it. “Going through the door?”</p>
<p>“A bit like drowning,” says Mael, scratching his beard.</p>
<p>“Like a long journey through rain,” Arvel says.</p>
<p>“Not...not good,” Liesl says. She can still feel the breath on her neck. She shudders.</p>
<p>BT begins writing in his notebook as everyone talks about their experiences in the portal.</p>
<p>“Fascinating,” Hugon says happily. He skips ahead. “I’d love to work on an experiment that interesting, but they won’t have me.”</p>
<p>“What is it you’re studying?” Arvel inquires.</p>
<p>“Everything!” Hugon says, as Malasintha answers, “We’re both studying magic.”</p>
<p>“Is this a Valaviri school, then?”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Malasintha answers, looking confused. “All the schools here in Falia are Valaviri. But we’re at the only university in the whole country, right in the middle of Eblana Ladrem.”</p>
<p>“A university you say? What is your library like? I should very much like to see it!” BT looks thrilled at the prospect.</p>
<p>“It’s awful,” Hugon bemoans. “They don’t even organize the books! And half of it is crumbling away. Mal, you’ve missed the turn for Master Conn’s rooms again.” Malasintha scowls, and leads them back down the hallway, through a door to the left, down another flight of stairs, and finally stops in front of a simple wooden door. “Here we are. Just go right on in. We’ll wait out here for you. No, Hugon! Leave the sword alone.”</p>
<p>Arvel catches the boy’s wrist and winks at him. “When we’ve concluded our business, Master Hugon. Why take it now when you might have it fairly and in the sun later?”</p>
<p>Hugon is practically vibrating with excitement as he nods. “Mal! I’m going to hold a <em> sword! </em>”</p>
<p>Smiling at the boy’s excitement, Arvel raps on the door.</p>
<p>“Come in!” a man calls gruffly from inside the room.</p>
<p>BT smooths out his coat and starts through the door with his nose slightly tilted upward. “Ah, yes, very good!”</p>
<p>Inside are herbs hanging from the ceiling, rows of glass bottles organized neatly on shelves, and a man with his sleeves rolled up chopping some kind of plant at the large table. He glances up as they come in. “How can I help you?”</p>
<p>“We were sent by Verus. We were supposed to meet Master Emidius, but he’s...apparently indisposed.”</p>
<p>“As he so often is,” Master Conn notes dryly. “I’ve no idea who this Verus is, though, or who you are. If you’re injured or sick, I can help; if not, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”</p>
<p>BT steps in front of Arvel. “My name is Bartlby Thomison Rutledge, third of his name, Keeper of Rutledge Manor. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance!”</p>
<p>“We just went through the <em> door </em>,” Liesl interrupts, moving further into the room. “I think I’m all right, but...the door.” She searches out the group, eyes settling on Mael. “He and I,” she says, “we almost didn’t make it out. Is there something we need to do? Since you’re a healer.”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Master Conn says. “Did you injure yourselves entering a room? Hit your head on a door? Unless it’s serious, the only thing I can recommend is a wet cloth.”</p>
<p>She buttons her lips.</p>
<p>“Do you have a wet cloth on hand?” Mael asks.</p>
<p>Arvel clears his throat. “She’s...confused from the journey, sir. She was ill. If you can point us to somewhere we can wait until Master Emidius can speak with us, we would be grateful. A wet cloth and maybe some water?”</p>
<p>Master Conn shrugs. “If you say so. No idea where you can wait, though—Emidius’ll take awhile before he’s capable of talking to anyone.” As he turns to grab a nearby cloth, he sees Uallach, and his eyes widen. She glares at him, and he hastily looks away as he moves toward the sink in the corner of the room. He brings the wet cloth over to them. “Here you are. Unless you need another?”</p>
<p>“Mistress Hartnet?” Arvel asks.</p>
<p>She refuses to look at Master Conn. “No, thank you,” she says. She grips her leather bag and tilts her head away.</p>
<p>“If that’s everything...” He looks at Uallach again. “Do you need me to take a look at you, mistress?” he asks cordially. “You seem unwell.” She narrows her eyes at him. He says something else to her, but it’s not in Valaviri.</p>
<p>Arvel blinks and tilts his head to one side, but says nothing.</p>
<p>BT squints, “I believe she just asked Master Conn to a dance!”</p>
<p>“You speak Falian?” Mael asks, skeptical.</p>
<p>“No, but I have travelled in many countries and have a good understanding of linguistics!” BT says proudly.</p>
<p>Uallach tilts her head, and then responds in the same language, rapid-fire and lilting. Master Conn replies. Ness—and interestingly enough, Merianus—look back and forth between the two, who appear to be arguing over something</p>
<p>Mael clears his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but is everything all right?”</p>
<p>The two seem to come to some sort of agreement. Master Conn steps back, offering them a strained smile. “My apologies. I thought she was someone I knew, but it turns out she isn’t.”</p>
<p>“Too right I’m not,” Uallach says tartly. “And it’ll stay that way if you know what’s good for you.”</p>
<p>“Ah, I see.” He shifts awkwardly, unsure of what to do next, and looks over to the rest of the group for help.</p>
<p>Liesl’s brow furrows, focusing on Ness and Merianus. She grips her bag tighter. This was not what she had in mind when she volunteered. At all.</p>
<p>Ness notices the attention and shrinks back.</p>
<p>“If we have no one to report to,” Liesl then says, addressing Merianus, “then what is expected of us now?”</p>
<p>He fidgets. “Technically speaking, we do have someone to report to. He’s just...not available at the moment.” Master Conn snorts. “You’re waiting for Emidius? You’ll be waiting awhile. Best to find some place to rest the night. He’ll be up for his classes tomorrow morning, though he’ll have an awful headache.”</p>
<p>“Excellent! Lads, I do believe it’s time for supper!” BT says jovially.</p>
<p>“Do you know of an inn nearby? Or perhaps we may trouble our charming little guides again?” Arvel asks, casting an amused glance at BT.</p>
<p>“Who?” Master Conn asks.</p>
<p>“Malasintha and Hugon.”</p>
<p>“Oh, <em> them. </em>” He laughs. “I see them at least two or three times a week. Don’t let Hugon near anything sharp, the boy has no sense of self-preservation,” he advises them. “But Malasintha’s a good girl. She’ll know the best place for you to go in the city. Listen to her, and you won’t go wrong.”</p>
<p>Arvel bows. “We’re obliged to you, Master Conn. Thank you for your advice and the cloth.”</p>
<p>“Safe travels.” He nods at all of them, locks eyes with Uallach once more, and raises a hand in farewell as they exit.</p>
<p>Malasintha and Hugon are sitting against the opposite wall, heads bent together in quiet conversation. “Hello, hello!” Hugon says when they come out. “Everybody all healed up?”</p>
<p>“Nearly! We could use some food, though, and a bed for the night. We’ve heard you’re the people to ask.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Malasintha tucks her hair back, smiling. “Well, it depends on what kind of place you’re looking for. Cheap? Good food? Baths? Comfortable beds? What’s your priority?”</p>
<p>Arvel laughs. “Can we choose two? I’d love good food for cheap.”</p>
<p>“And more than one room,” Mael adds, glancing at Liesl. “For propriety’s sake.”</p>
<p>“Sad,” Arvel says under his breath.</p>
<p>Liesl stiffens. She shoots a look at Arvel, then tightens her hold on her bag. At this point the strap could strangle her.</p>
<p>Malasintha taps her chin. “Good food for cheap...there’s a <em> choavadom </em> around the corner—nothing fancy, but they do offer supper. And then just across the street, there’s an inn with several available rooms. You can take a look at it and see if it works for you?”</p>
<p>“That would be lovely,” Arvel says. “Would you be kind enough to lead us?”</p>
<p>“Oh!” She glances at Hugon. </p>
<p>“I’m coming too,” he says immediately. “I still haven’t gotten to hold the sword yet.” </p>
<p>“But the experiment—” </p>
<p>“Mal! Sword!” He waves his hands wildly. </p>
<p>She turns back to them. “Of course! We’d be happy to.”</p>
<p>“What sort of experiments are you young ones engaged in?” BT asks.</p>
<p>Hugon bounces along in front of them, as he and Malasintha lead them through a complicated, twisting maze of hallways and stairs. “All sorts! Tonight we were going to see how many explosions one could set off in the labs before a professor came to see what was going on. But we can always do that another time.”</p>
<p>“My, what an enterprising duo!” BT praises.</p>
<p>Malasintha opens a door, and suddenly they are outside in the evening air. All around them are brick walkways interspersed with browning patches of grass. “Well, our record is ten. We were hoping to make it to fifteen tonight.”</p>
<p>“And, ah, what do your professors say about your experiments?” Arvel asks, amused.</p>
<p>Hugon jumps over a bench. “I don’t really listen to most of them. They’re boring!”</p>
<p>“I take it they don’t let you handle swords?”</p>
<p>“He’s not even allowed to touch anything in the labs. He’s made too many things break and burn already,” Malasintha chimes in as they go down a set of wide stone stairs. </p>
<p>“Someday they’ll let me do things again,” Hugon says wistfully. “Maybe.”</p>
<p>“That’s the spirit,” says Mael, giving the boy a wink. “You look much too bright to be held back from those kinds of things.”</p>
<p>“That’s what I keep saying,” he says seriously. “But nobody listens to me.”</p>
<p>“They should. I’m sure they’ll come around.”</p>
<p>Arvel laughs. “We’ll see how well you can hold my sword, and then I’ll vouch for you.”</p>
<p>Hugon claps his hands together in delight. “Yes! I love swords!” At this time of day, there’s modest crowds of people ambling along the streets. Malasintha and Hugon weave in and out of the crowds with such ease that the others are hard-pressed to keep up with the two. Finally, Malasintha waves them over to the side, in front of a brightly painted door. “Welcome to one of my favorite places ever,” she says happily. “The food is really good here.”</p>
<p>“How are we paying?” Liesl asks. She steals a look up at Arvel and frowns. She doesn’t want to pay for him, that’s for certain.</p>
<p>Merianus coughs. “I have some money, allotted for this trip, if any of us find ourselves short. Shall we go in?”</p>
<p>Liesl gives him a small smile.</p>
<p>Mael sniffs the air and grins. “Yes please! I’m starving.”</p>
<p>“Me too,” says Hugon. He pats his pockets, frowning. </p>
<p>Malasintha sighs and opens the door. “I’ve got our money right here, Hugon.”</p>
<p>From behind them, a small voice speaks up. “What...what should we do?” Ness asks, not looking any of them in the eye.</p>
<p>Mael pivots to face them. “Come with us, of course! You must be hungry too?”</p>
<p>“What else would you do?” Arvel says, looking slightly surprised.</p>
<p>Liesl sidles up beside her, whispering, “I can pay for you. Don’t worry. It’s <em> him </em>,” she says, gesturing toward Arvel, “I won’t share my coins for.” She smiles at Ness. “Please do come, I feel a little strange being the only lady about.”</p>
<p>Ness ducks her head and nods. She gently takes Uallach by the elbow. “Come, <em> a mháthair </em>, they said we can eat inside.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” Uallach snorts. “Mark my words, they don’t mean it. It’s only because we’ve got something they want.” Still, she allows herself to be led inside by her daughter.</p>
<p>Liesl, true to her word, hands money over to Ness once inside. “Choose what you wish,” she insists.</p>
<p>Ness looks frightened and tries to hand the money back. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”</p>
<p>Liesl bites her lip. “I am not sure what I will be having. I’m not well traveled, I must admit.”</p>
<p>“You know the people and the food better,” Arvel says to Ness with a charming smile. “Why don’t you tell us what’s good?”</p>
<p>Liesl tries to ignore him.</p>
<p>“Please,” adds Mael, smiling in earnest. “My mother always tells me I’ve a knack for ordering the worst sorts of food, so I need all the advice I can get.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never been to Falia before, though,” Ness protests. “I was born in Ilusa.” She looks at her mother.</p>
<p> “Don’t look at me,” Uallach says. “This is all Valaviri slop. Nothing like real Falian food.”</p>
<p>Lisel brushes back a lock of hair. She furrows her brow at the food.</p>
<p>“Say, what spices do you believe they use in the dishes here?” BT asks, his little book out and ready to go.</p>
<p>Hugon shrugs. “I don’t know, but it tastes good! Oh, look—Mal’s found us a table!”</p>
<p>“Any recommendations on food, young sir?” Arvel asks.</p>
<p>“I like their sandwiches,” Hugon says. “Mal likes their soups. It’s all really good, if you ask me.”</p>
<p>“Hmm...I’m always fond of beef stew. Do they serve it here?” Arvel asks him, as they make their way over to Malasintha, who has procured them two tables in order to fit their group. Hugon nods.</p>
<p>Arvel and BT squeeze into the chairs closest to the wall, while Ness, Liesl, and Uallach take the chairs on the other side of the table. With no more room left, Mael, Hugon, Merianus, and Malasintha retreat to the other table, where they are soon in an enthusiastic discussion about swords, explosions, and university life. Mael seems highly entertained.</p>
<p>BT looks around until he finds someone who appears to be working at the <em> choavadom </em>, and waves a hand at him until the man makes his way over. “Ah, barkeep, old lad, I would like your cabbage soup,” BT leans in pushing a paper and pen toward the keeper, “and to write which spices you prefer to use and how you grow them.” He winks at the man and tosses him a coin.</p>
<p>The man eyes him dubiously. He pokes at the coin in his hand before pocketing it. “I’ll get you some cabbage soup, sir, but I can’t make any promises about the spices. I’m not the cook.” He looks at the other members of the group, who have drifted over in BT’s wake. “Can I get you anything else?”</p>
<p>“Beef stew?” Arvel says questioningly.</p>
<p>The man nods.</p>
<p>Liesl looks as if she wants to order beef stew, but doesn’t want the same thing Arvel orders. She looks at Ness almost plaintively. “Do you like cabbage soup?” she asks. Her eyes beg her not like it.</p>
<p>Ness hesitates. “Ah...Whatever you want,” she says more firmly. “I’ll eat it.”</p>
<p>“Get a spine, the two of you,” Uallach mutters.</p>
<p>Liesl looks disconcerted at the idea of cabbage soup, and Ness’s agreement to it.</p>
<p>Arvel turns to her, eyes twinkling. “What would you recommend, mistress? It’s only Valaviri fare, regrettably, but you seem a woman of sound judgment.”</p>
<p>Uallach sniffs, clearly on to him. “I recommend you direct your charm in a different direction, young man. I’m old enough to be your mother. Go find some flighty girl to bother. And if we eat cabbage soup,” she adds to Ness, “you won’t hear the end of it from me, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>Arvel raises his eyebrows. “I mean only respect, mistress.”</p>
<p>“Beef stew, then,” Liesl tells the man, smile dimpling. She bites her lip, trying not to be fond of Uallach’s set-down of Arvel.</p>
<p>“Thank the Highest,” Uallach says. “Cabbage soup is disgusting. Get her two bowls,” she adds to the man sternly and jerking her head at Liesl. “She needs fattening up.”</p>
<p>He nods. Merianus also asks for beef stew, Malasintha asks for some kind of soup with a fancy name, and Hugon declares that he would like a sandwich. Mael also requests a sandwich. The man promises them he’ll return shortly with their food and departs.</p>
<p>BT slurps his soup and begins coughing. “Hmm, quite heavy on the pepper this soup is. I think Mael had the right idea to order a sandwich.” BT gets the barkeep to come back over, and asks for a sandwich and one of their best ales.</p>
<p>The man retreats into the back and comes out bearing the requested items, which he gives to BT.</p>
<p>Liesl swallows her beef stew, making eye contact with Ness and trying not to giggle.</p>
<p>That could have been them.</p>
<p>Ness briefly smiles at Liesl, but then hurriedly glances away.</p>
<p>“Absolutely capital, my good man!” BT slides another piece of gold while also whispering, “I’ll give you two more gold if you write down the ingredients of the ale.”</p>
<p>The man eyes him. “Gold first.”</p>
<p>“One piece of gold,” Arvel advises. “And the other when you have the list.”</p>
<p>BT looks around, before quickly slapping two pieces of gold. He then pulls back one piece. “Ah, good call, Arvel.”</p>
<p>The man blinks at Arvel. It’s a slow blink, the kind that indicates the person blinking is thinking about whether or not they dislike whoever is in front of them, but eventually he turns his attention back to BT. “Fine.” He picks up the piece of gold and disappears into the back again.</p>
<p>Arvel smiles to himself and tackles his stew.</p>
<p>BT leans to Arvel, “You see, young man, this is the art of bargaining. You seem to already be quite adept at it. Unfortunately for our barkeep friend here, the coins are actually made of pyrite...fool’s gold.”</p>
<p>Arvel nearly drops his spoon. “You just <em> conned him </em>?”</p>
<p>“You were <em> lying </em>?” Liesl says after him.</p>
<p>“Not quite lying...I left him a method of seasoning soup from the land of Krakakkoku by his chair.”</p>
<p>“I think he’d rather have actual gold,” Arvel says dryly.</p>
<p>“And I would have rather had well seasoned soup, yet here we are.”</p>
<p>Liesl raises her eyebrows at BT. She tucks her bag closer to her.</p>
<p>“So, I missed the meeting,” Liesl mentions a little later, dipping some bread in her stew. She addresses Uallach. “I’m afraid I don’t know exactly what I’m supposed to be doing here. All I know is that there’s compensation, and, well.” She tucks a lock behind her ear, almost embarrassed.</p>
<p>Uallach glares at her stew instead of answering. Merianus leans over, having overheard the conversation from the other table. “You might not want to ask her about it.” He lowers his voice, glancing around. “We’re supposed to see if she can get us across the border and into the north. And then we’re supposed to find out how the northerners are keeping out the <em> maerei </em> so that...” He falters. “So that we can invade and take over, I suppose.” Grimacing, he turns back to his own table.</p>
<p>Liesl swallows, throat suddenly dry. “But why? Hasn’t the empire got enough to make do with what they have?” She presses a finger to her lips. “Are they struggling with internal infrastructure? Or the economy? Conquest won’t fix that,” she says frankly. “They need a specialist.”</p>
<p>“Probably a matter of pride,” Arvel says. “Besides, what if they tell others how they’re keeping the <em> maerei </em> out? The empire certainly doesn’t want <em> that </em> secret getting out.”</p>
<p>He finishes his soup and pushes the bowl away. “I don’t doubt there’s plenty out there who’d be interested in hearing how they could chase the Valaviri from their own shores.”</p>
<p>Uallach directs a small smile down at her stew.</p>
<p>Liesl looks at him, expression saying, <em> I wasn’t asking </em>you.</p>
<p>He looks back blandly.</p>
<p>She resettles in her seat, brushing invisible lint off her skirt. “If the Valaviri conquer Falia, what’s to stop them from anywhere else,” she muses. “I think there’s more to it than just mere conquest...” She stops, suddenly, realizing who her company is, and quickly shovels in another spoonful of stew.</p>
<p>“What indeed,” Arvel mutters.</p>
<p>(BT stares at his sandwich, not paying attention to the others at all. “I say that while the soup has an over abundance of spice, the sandwich has the perfect balance!”)</p>
<p>“If you were to guess,” Arvel says softly to Liesl, “what else would you think it’s about?”</p>
<p>Liesl’s eyes slide over to BT and his sandwich, then back at Arvel. “I think,” she says, hoping she doesn’t appear stupid, “that glory of conquest gets old fast. It takes a lot of money and power for upkeep. Expanding just adds to the fire. With that in mind, maybe it’s not conquest that speeds them. Maybe it’s desperation.”</p>
<p>Arvel smiles faintly, grimly. “Ah, well then, they must break North Falia ere this rebellion spreads to other lands. No wonder they’re willing to pay so much.”</p>
<p>Liesl sighs. The sigh seems to scream, “I don’t think so,” but she doesn’t voice her opinion.</p>
<p>“If they pay you at all,” Ness says, and then goes white. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn!”</p>
<p>(“But for the life of me, I cannot tell if garlic or salt is the primary seasoning...” BT says with a look of consternation on his face.)</p>
<p>“Why Ness! You don’t trust our employers?” Arvel puts a hand to his mouth in mock horror. He drops his voice and leans in slightly. “And what would make you say that, mistress? Could it be the coffers of Valaviri are not as deep as the empire would have us believe?”</p>
<p>Ness hunches over. “You shouldn’t speak of such things,” she stammers. “<em> They </em> could be listening.” She means the <em> maerei</em>, of course.</p>
<p>Arvel blanches and straightens up. “Listening to what? We’re loyal citizens of the empire on an important errand in her service, are we not?”</p>
<p>“I’m not a citizen,” Liesl mutters, swinging her feet under the table impatiently</p>
<p>“Loyal servants?”</p>
<p>“I’m not a servant either,” she says, chin up and obstinate</p>
<p>Arvel props his chin in his hands, contemplating her. “How would you describe yourself, then, and where do you hail from if not the empire?”</p>
<p>“The Tearan Republic,” she says with a note of pride. “We don’t believe in monarchy. We think that people should govern the government, not the other way around.”</p>
<p>His eyebrows bunch in bafflement. “And how is that to work? The strongest? The cleverest?”</p>
<p>Liesl blanks. “What are you even saying?”</p>
<p>“How do people govern the government? How do you choose who does the ruling? I don’t understand.”</p>
<p>“Here, here, I find politicians to be quite dull and uneducated,” BT says, having finished his sandwich. “I prefer to look after my own affairs.”</p>
<p>“Like cabbage soup,” Liesl says drily.</p>
<p>“Or the lack thereof, dear girl,” BT says while lighting his pipe.</p>
<p>“But about your government,” Arvel says, too intrigued to let the subject drop. “Do you remove your leader from power if you dislike his handling of affairs?”</p>
<p>“We can,” she says, almost challengingly</p>
<p>“A leader should serve its people.”</p>
<p>“Ah, now that I can understand. We have a similar custom. How do you choose your leader, though?”</p>
<p>“Racketeering,” she says bluntly, feeling as though he might be making fun of her. She returns to her stew, nudging Ness with her elbow. Ness looks at her warily.</p>
<p>“Interesting. In my country, either the ruler inherits or wins leadership in battle.”</p>
<p>She nods, already done with the conversation. She asks questions of Ness instead, extending her roll of bread for sharing. Ness seems to have retreated into silence once more, merely shaking her head at the offered bread.</p>
<p>Arvel turns to BT. “And you, good sir. What brings you on this adventure?”</p>
<p>“The pursuit of knowledge, my lad.”</p>
<p>Arvel smiles slightly. “You’ll certainly acquire plenty of that here.”</p>
<p>“More than you might want,” Uallach says cryptically. She plucks the bread from Liesl’s hand and shoves it in the direction of Ness. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”</p>
<p>Arvel regards her sideways. Then he smothers a yawn and stretches. “Ach, tomorrow is soon enough to begin learning. Shall we seek some rooms?”</p>
<p>“Aye, that we shall,” BT says, pipe in mouth.</p>
<p>“You’re all done?” Hugon asks. “We can take you to the inn across the street now, if you want.”</p>
<p>“That would be excellent, thank you,” Arvel says.</p>
<p>They pay for their food (the man never did come back with the recipe for ale), and then Malasintha and Hugon take them to the nearby inn, and manage to wear down the innkeeper into giving the group rooms for half the usual price, merely by dint of Hugon tripping over everything in sight and the woman agreeing hurriedly to Malasintha’s offer before Hugon could break anything valuable. Malasintha volunteers to pick them up in the morning and guide them back to the university, since they don’t know the way, and Hugon volunteers to stick close to Master Emidius, making sure he has no chance to become “indisposed” again. </p>
<p>“See you tomorrow!” Malasintha says, waving cheerfully at them. Even when the door closes behind the two, the group can hear them lightly bickering over why Hugon had to wait until tomorrow to hold Arvel’s sword. </p>
<p>It seems like their quest is back on track. Tonight, they rest. Tomorrow—who knows what the new day might bring?</p>
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